


Autumn Fills - Nyx

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Seasonal, Slice of Life, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 03:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12472548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: A series of autumn themed prompts and fills. Featuring Nyx.





	Autumn Fills - Nyx

**Author's Note:**

> All from the [Autumn List](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/post/166433929044/fallautumn-writing-prompts-for-your-otp) over at [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/)

_27\. Renting a cabin_

It had been a surprise. Nyx had planned for his leave to be quiet, subdued; to settle at home and in bed with Noct and some homecooked meals— free from the immediate responsibilities of guard duty in the city. He had been looking forward to just sleeping away the bulk of the vacation. Maybe grabbing drinks with friends when they all had a moment. He had wanted to stay in— to watch the changing of the leaves in a carefully manicured park, with Noct by his side. Just something nice, and simple, and quiet.

He hadn’t expected to be herded into the passenger seat of the Star while Noct took him for a drive outside of the city. 

“Well, I say renting, but it’s mine. Or dad’s, really. He doesn’t come here anymore.”

The cabin was a mess— weather worn and run down at first glance. Big, but old— with peeling paint and curling shingles. Enough space around it for a small staff to maintain and run, but lost to neglect and the wear and tear of a world beyond the Wall. 

But the Cape was beautiful. The clear skies over the ocean, the fire in the trees as the leaves turned, the feeling of boundless freedom over the cliffs… Nyx was almost reminded of home. As they made the walk up from the parking spot at the base of the hill and towards the lighthouse, Nyx had only thought of home— of the clear salt air of the sea when the wind was right, and the broad leaves in their bright autumn colours overhead. Even the house, to an extent reminded him of the old houses back on the island with their salt-stripped paints. 

“I can see that.”

The paths wound their way around the hill, between the trees and the outcroppings and the piles of supplies and salvage left scattered around. He could understand why the king would be forced to stop coming out here— the reliance of the Wall on him, the aches and pains just the walk up the kill… But it was still mostly maintained. There was a fresh rail on the steps across the stone, the grass cut back from the path. Even the house had been patched back together.

“Shut up, I checked it out,” Noct was smiling as he hopped the steps of the narrow porch and shouldered the stiff door open; “it’s perfectly fine if you don’t mind the look of it. Cor says it’s all in working order.”

And it was— with the small kitchen and long table, the mysterious steps down to the basement and the rooms tucked away upstairs. He had to smile, to admire the charm of the building. To see the way that there was some affection still keeping the place standing so far from any outpost. “Homey.”

“I know!”

He had to admire the charm of Noct’s smile more, at the beam of pride for coming up with the idea of a getaway like this. Out away from the prying eyes of the city and the Council. Nyx caught the prince around his waist, trailed kisses along the man’s throat before stealing his lips. A quick glance out the windows gave him a view of the bright colours and the lack of other people— the sheltered nature of the Cape far less claustrophobic despite the press of trees and narrow paths. “You rented us a romantic getaway?”

“I did.”

“And we’re the only ones—”

“For ages.”

“Good.” Nyx just knew that the stairs would creak when they managed to make their way up them. He knew that there’s be a draft and they’d pile on blankets as a precaution. He just knew that the bed would groan beneath them, and the old noises of pipes and wood and wind in the trees would keep them up far more than any chaos of the streets. “Let’s check out the view.”

—

_25\. Fall Festival_

The idea that the Lucians were uptight was only in comparison to the way things were done in Galahd for the kids. Everyone knew it. There were holidays and festivals in Galahd that were sombre and dark— settings of suns and rushes of new dawns. But then there were the dances. The harvest beats and the celebrations of work well done at the end of the year. Whole nights when the parties would spill out from the houses and into the streets and fields. 

When he first came to the city, Nyx had sided with Libertus in thinking that the Lucians really needed to learn how to have some fun. 

For most of the city, the harvest was in the simple decorations they could buy. The little skulls and goddesses that suddenly appeared in every shop like a million little altars suddenly popping up at once. And some were altars, he supposed— like in the office lobbies and the Citadel tourist halls, and by the hospitals and parks, where the statues were left with little offering bowls filled with sweets and toys and things which seemed to be restocked as if by magic. 

“Are you coming today?” Noct had asked, practically dragging Nyx out the door before there was an answer. “It’s the festival day.”

Nyx had wanted to scoff at the idea. He wanted to tell Noct that the Lucians didn’t know how to party; that the idea of a harvest festival was beyond the city, beyond whatever they could cobble together on the manicured lawns and the cobblestone paths. He wanted to tell Noct that a real harvest festival needed music and fire and all the colours of the season spilling into drinks and food and across the streets. 

The Lucians were all greys and stone. 

Libertus always said that the Lucians forgot where they came from— that they lost their direction going forward because they didn’t know what was behind them. Nyx usually agreed with him on the point.

“Is this a graveyard?” Nyx had seen the tombs in the depths below the city. He had seen the crypts decorated with Royal Arms and long lines of names beneath statues and urns. 

“I guess so?” Noct hadn’t stopped smiling since getting out of the car. Since stepping onto the pathways lined with bright, thick candles, and the lanterns twisting between the monuments. “You coming?”

Out on the edges of the city was a large open space of fields and farms— a piece of nature within the fortifications. Where the city and its greys and stones and steel stopped and let some of the wilds in. Nyx had always thought it was just a park. 

Between the lanterns, he could read the inscriptions and engravings— some names worn away with time, near the outer edges of the park, the newer ones building on the fresh stones further in. The monuments varied, Astrals, skeletons, the Lucian crests, even a handful of familiar Galahdan markings here and there— fading in and out of view as the strings of lights and flicker of candles moved across them in the open air. The deeper they went, the brighter the lights. 

Until there was a fire in the centre of the maze. A fire and music, and street vendors with sugar skulls and ice cream. With pies dyed black with squids’ ink and the bright lines and flowers that appeared almost neon in contrast practically glowed. Men and women were in costume, with bright ribbons trailing behind until strips of cloth and charms were left draped over the graves. Among the new monuments with the most recent carved names, families sat as if at a picnic in the dusk, drinks and food flowing with goodwill as they chatted about the dead. 

As they remembered. 

A drink was pressed into their hands as they joined the crowd, as familiar faces waved them over to newly constructed shrines. Ignis unwrapping little colourful skulls make of sugar and cream for each of them as Prompto fought with the settings on his camera to capture the chaos around them. Drinks were tipped beneath photographs, and Nyx recognised the long-dead Queen from the paintings in the Citadel among them. And the image of a woman who looked more like Iris than Nyx was comfortable seeing among the skulls and ribbons next to her. 

“You okay, hero?”

“Yeah, yeah, this is… Different.”

“What do you do in Galahd?”

“Celebrate life, little star. This is a lot of death all in one place.” 

Noct was still smiling, raising his glass to a familiar group of Crownsguard come to pay their respects. “Really? I think we’re doing pretty well at celebrating life around here.”


End file.
